


To Finish What Was Started

by Domination



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Spoilers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domination/pseuds/Domination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of The Force Awakens, the Resistance finds themselves fighting a losing battle. The attack at Starkiller base wiped out over half of their fleet and the destruction of the Hosnian system has cut them off from the Republic's aid.</p><p>After a mission gone wrong, Octavia Khaar finds herself at the mercy of the First Order and the infamous Kylo Ren. There, she learns the secrets of her darkest fears as her nightmares surface and she struggles not to succumb to the madness of her captor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will mainly focus on my OC and her struggle with dark versus light. I will also add in other OC ships along the way (as noted by my Poe/OC and Finn/OC tags). Please let me know what you think about the story; it is always appreciated to hear feedback from you as well as your ideas. Though I already have a story arc planned out, feel free to let me know of any ideas you may have that might make the story better; I may or may not add them, but I would love to hear them!
> 
> I would like to thank my best friends Camryn, Lauren, and Sarah for inspiring the three OCs that are not my main character! And also for letting me ship you with people (though I may or may not be a little jealous I gave up Poe).
> 
> Disclaimer: This will be my only disclaimer for the story. I do not own Star Wars.

**Starkiller Base**

**T-70 X-Wing Starfighter, Red Squadron**

            “Red One, I need you to head for the left side of the oscillator. Blue will take the right.”

            “Roger that, Blue One.”

            The little ship made an abrupt left turn, signaling to its squadron to follow it. Octavia Khaar switched on the targeting computer, transforming the X-wing into attack mode. “You ready, Seetee?” The little droid beeped a _yes_. The girl smiled ruefully, “Let’s flatten these bastards.”

            She dropped the ship, gradually picking up speed as she moved closer towards the hexagonal-shaped oscillator in the middle of the First Order’s base. The base was huge, bigger even than the Death Star described in her father’s war stories. And if they didn’t stop it – Octavia shuddered, life as she knew it would cease to exist. Literally.

            “Prepare yourselves, Red.” She spoke to her squad over the little microphone attached to her helmet. They were close, just a few more seconds.

            “Roger that, Red One.”

            Five, four, three, two –

            She pulled up, letting off on the controls just enough to level the ship so that she could get a clear shot. Octavia squeezed to button, letting the cannon fire. Quickly she zoomed up and zigzagged to the left, moving away from the oncoming explosion. Behind her, she could see the other troops following in her path, firing on the base before steering away.

            Octavia clenched her fists around the controls, preparing for another round before noticing that the explosions seemed to have no effect. In fact, it was _spotless_. “Fuck!” She cursed, punching the controls and kicking for a moment before regaining a level head. Now wasn’t the time to let her emotions get ahold of her. She let out a small growl before connecting her headset to her partner’s ship. “Blue One, come in.”

            “What is it, Red One?”

            “We’ve got a problem.” Octavia looked back at the enormous base surrounded by an invisible shield. “My troops aren’t affecting the oscillator. What –” She yanked the controls, shooting quickly to the right and circling back to the base. “What do we do?”

            No reply.

            Fuck. Octavia made quick movements back to the oscillator, deciding once again to open fire on it. Still, no scratch was made. Her troops were flying behind her and shooting, but they could probably sense her indecision by her current flying. Kriff, if she didn’t think of something they were all screwed.

            “Son of a bantha!” She slammed her fist into the steering system once more.

            “Ya’ all right there, Tav?” Octavia looked up to see her partner’s blue ship fly past her, expertly showing off as he flipped upside down and handled it with ease.

            She groaned. “Yeah, yeah.”

            “Just hang in there, Red One. I’ve got a – Shit!” Octavia’s eyes widened as she saw her friend’s ship suddenly shoot to the left, his squadron quickly following behind him. “We’ve got a problem! The First Order just released their TIE fighters.”

            “Son of a –” she reached over to connect the headset with her squad. “Red Two, do you hear me?” Octavia flipped a switch, activating her blasters. “CT, can you locate the First Order’s ships for me?” _Yes_. The muscles in her hands cramped as she gripped the controls tight enough to strangle somebody, her head pounding with an oncoming headache.

            “I hear you, Red One.”

            Octavia clenched her jaw as she yanked on the controls, dipping to the side to try to gain a clear shot of an oncoming TIE fighter. “I need you to take Red Four and Six and split up. I’ll take Three and Five.”

            “Roger that, Red One.”

            She gave a silent nod, ready for the battle. Octavia knew going into this that the First Order would most likely send out their ships, but the Resistance had hoped that they would have made some impact on the base before they did so. Apparently things weren’t going to be that easy, though. But when were they ever relatively easy?

            She gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing as she locked onto her target. The TIE fighters were just as unimpressive as the last time she had seen one. Created for speed rather than endurance, the little ships were a pain in the ass but easy to take down if she could ever get a clear shot off of one. It didn’t help that they were firing back at her, but the TIE pilots weren’t necessarily known as being the most accurate shooters in the galaxy.

            One two three… Now! The targeting module on the screen locked onto her target and she fired, the blaster hitting the enemy ship and causing it to all but disintegrate. Octavia veered to the left, narrowly missing a piece of the TIE fighter’s wing that came flying back at her. She watched as Red Five flew past her, dodging a shot by another enemy ship before shooting and missing the target; it circled around, whipping out of the way of another shot before taking out the TIE Fighter. Octavia silently cheered and kept flying, moving past the wreckage dispersing into space to find another enemy ship.

            She smiled. Octavia could freely admit to anyone who asked that her favorite part of going on missions was the shooting. While her close friend and flying partner, Blue One – typically Black One, during Special Forces missions – was the best pilot in the Resistance, Octavia was the best shot. And everyone knew it.

            Octavia grinned as she took out another TIE fighter, dipping to the side to change angles. Blue One flew past her, his squadron of blue ships flying closely behind him. Red Two, Four, and Six weren’t far behind them, and Octavia had to signal them to fly in another direction. She sighed and contacted Red Three and Five, letting them know that she was going to chase after another TIE fighter and for them to keep up a barrage on the oscillator.

            “Red One, you suck at teamwork.” Octavia looked up to see Poe Dameron waving at her from the blue ship flying next to her.

            She rolled her eyes and flipped him off, but that only seemed to cause him to laugh. “Blue One, you and I both know I like to work alone.” She could see him shaking his head from the cockpit of the ship next to hers.

            “Want some help, Red One?”

            She snorted. “Only from you, Blue One.” Poe’s ship sped up, and Octavia was left following him. The little blue X-wing fighter flew past a waiting group of three TIE Fighters, urging the enemy ships to follow him. Octavia had slowed down, almost to a stop while Poe distracted the three ships. He flew in circles around them, dodging shots and taunting them before taking off with the ships in tow. Octavia counted – one second, two second, three second, four second – and took off, following the group pursuing Blue One.

            She sped up, accelerating slowly but efficiently. The girl made careful movements to hide in the shadows as she tracked her prey, waiting for one of the ships to move into a better position for her to take a shot. Finally, one made a mistake. It moved to shoot at the blue ship, but missed and veered out of position. Octavia pounced on the error, speeding up and locking the target on her computer. She fired. Hit.

            One down. Two to go.

            Ahead of her, Poe was flipping around, flying in a zigzag to confuse his enemy’s flight patterns. Octavia rolled her eyes, but applauded her friend’s skills as another of the TIE Fighters made the mistake of moving to get a better position: she had a clear shot.

            Two down.

            “You ready for the last one, Red One?”

            “Hell yes,” Octavia grinned. “Speed up, Blue One.”

            “Roger that.” The blue ship took off in a straight line, momentarily confusing the TIE fighter that was flying through its partner’s carnage. Octavia used its confusion to her advantage and swooped in, taking it out with ease. She whooped, pumping up her fist in excitement before steering around and heading back to Starkiller Base.

            It was a few moments later when her mic set connected with one of her Red ships. “Red One, did you see that?”

            Octavia squinted, Poe’s blue ship close behind hers. Ahead of them, the giant First Order base looked as if it were having a firework show on the west side of the base. Smoke and bright light was everywhere, and if Octavia didn’t know any better she would think they were celebrating. But the First Order didn’t throw parties. “Finn and Han.” She breathed, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. She knew that the _Millennium Falcon_ had been packed with explosives, but she had no idea that they would actually _use_ them.

            But they had, and now there was a huge gaping hole in Starkiller Base’s shields. Right next to the oscillator.

            “Red and Blue Squadrons, this is Blue One. Prepare to mount an attack on the base.” Poe’s voice echoed through the headset, and Octavia mentally prepared herself. She looked back to make sure her droid was ready before getting into position. Finally.

            The barrage on the base was surprisingly quick and efficient. It was led by Poe’s ship, followed by Octavia, and the two squadrons behind them. They dive-bombed the target, nearly emptying all of their rounds until the oscillator went up in flames. Seconds later it exploded, pieces flying everywhere and the Resistance planes scattering from the blast. Octavia flew to the right, avoiding an oncoming cloud of shrapnel, and turned to look at the remains of the oscillator that they had spent so many resources trying to destroy.

            She gaped. Starkiller Base looked to be imploding, fire and earthquake-like explosions forming everywhere. She sent up a silent prayer to anyone who was listening that her friends left on the base would get out safely. Then she sent a message to her squad, informing them to head back to base. Quickly turning away, she followed Poe’s blue X-wing as the Resistance pilots all moved to head back to D’Qar. Mission accomplished.

 

* * *

 

**Resistance Base, D’Qar**

 

            Octavia arrived at the base expecting some form of congratulation. Usually when arriving from a successful mission, her and Poe were greeted with a large crowd and a smiling General Organa; some even clapped for them. But this time upon arriving, she was struck with the feeling that something was wrong.

            The landing bay was empty. Completely barren, save for a few of the left over ships that didn’t fly. There was no one to be found.

            Hopping out of Red One, Octavia went to greet her partner who was waiting next to his blue X-wing. The other troops were landing further down the strip, allowing Poe to motion her over in private. She raised her eyebrows, looking at her friend curiously.

            “Does something feel wrong to you?” Poe looked about as concerned as she felt, eyeing the barren landing bay as if something were going to jump out and shoot him.

            She nodded, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the base. “Yeah, c’mon.” The pair made their way into the base, careful not to trip over their droids that were beeping happily, glad to be out of the confines of the ship. Poe’s droid BB-8 appeared to be chasing CT-19. Octavia’s droid was an astromech, much like Poe’s, but while his was an orange-tan color, hers was black and orange. CT rolled over to her, beeping excitedly before rolling off with BB-8 in tow. Poe snorted at the two little droids and Octavia rolled her eyes.

            Inside the base, Octavia saw something that she thought she would never see in a place as rambunctious and full of hope as the Resistance. It was silent. A few people looked relieved, but others were walking around like zombies, wide-eyed and frightened. Most frightening of all was General Organa sitting in the middle of the room, eyes puffy from crying and tear stains on her face.

            Noticing this, Poe ran to the older woman, immediately taking her into a heartfelt embrace. “What happened?” Octavia watched as she tried to compose herself, some of the other people turning away to give the woman some space.

            “Ren –” she sniffed, taking a deep breath before looking up at the young pilot, “Kylo Ren killed Han.”

            Octavia felt her blood go cold; her body stiffened. In front of her, she could see Poe staring at the woman in disbelief. “What?!” Octavia only hoped that her mouth wasn’t hanging open like a slack-jawed idiot.

            The General nodded, lips tight. “We must carry on and hope that the others escaped safely.” Poe stepped back, giving her space before turning back to Octavia and moving to stand by her. The General patted them on the shoulder. “That was impressive work by the two of you.”

            Octavia shrugged, “It’s no big deal.” Her partner nodded in agreement.

            The General shook her head. “Really, without you two I don’t think we could have pulled this off. Go get some rest, you need it.”

            Octavia opened her mouth to say that they didn’t need sleep, but Poe cut her off. “Thank you, General.”

            The General cracked a smile, “How many times have I told you two to call me Leia?” Poe grinned at the older woman before she took her leave.

            Octavia turned on her partner with a glare. “What the hell? I don’t need rest!”

            Poe silenced her, clamping his hand over her mouth much to her annoyance. “C’mon Tav, she just lost Han. Do you really wanna argue with her right now?”

            He removed his hand and she heaved a sigh. “I guess not.” Leia was kind of like a second mother to her, and knowing how much the woman was hurting made Octavia feel slightly ill. She frowned before announcing to Poe that she was going to find her friend Liana. Poe looked as if he were about to say that he would join her, before Octavia clamped a hand over his mouth with an evil smirk. “Not today, flyboy.”

            Poe shot her a glare and Octavia couldn’t help but feel smug. The brash pilot had entertained his crush on Liana for a few months now, yet he had resolved to do nothing about it. Octavia had known Poe for years, growing up with him and learning nearly everything about him, and she had discovered time and time again that he had absolutely no problems with getting what he wanted. But for some reason Liana wasn’t interested, too busy with her work of helping the General plan their most recent missions.

            Octavia knew for a fact that the girl liked Poe back, but she was smart enough to make the pilot suffer. Liana didn’t want to make it easy for Poe, which pissed the man off to no end. Of course, Octavia took great joy in that.

            Of her two best friends at the base, Liana – not counting Poe, who was nearly always in the mess hall or out working on his ship – was the easiest to find. Octavia could spot the chocolate-haired woman in the middle of a small group surrounding a little wooden table, peering at what looked to be some kind of documents. She had a look of concentration on her face that Octavia hated to disturb, but ultimately decided that she didn’t care all that much.

            “Liana!” Octavia called from across the room, gaining the attention of her friend who looked up from her work and quickly excused herself from the other resistance members.

            Liana looked her friend up and down as she got closer, a small smile gracing her lips. “Well, you didn’t die.” Octavia had to hold back from scoffing. Her friend was blunt, but perhaps that’s why the two were such good friends in the first place. When one found themselves constantly flying with a semi-arrogant pilot, it was nice to talk to someone a little more normal once in a while.

            “Yeah, you could say that.”

            “The plan worked well.” Liana acknowledged, referring to the strategy her and General Organa had come up with.

            Octavia nodded, stretching her arms. She was feeling a little cramped from being in the X-wing’s cockpit for so long. But she could feel a smirk forming. “Yup, it didn’t suck.”

            Liana rolled her eyes. “Of course it didn’t suck. It was brilliant.” A pause, after Octavia mentally tried not to strangle her friend. “Chewbacca was genius to bring along explosives.”

            Octavia nodded. “By the way, do you know when they’re supposed to arrive?”

            The darker-haired girl shrugged. “Soon, I believe.” She gave her friend a questioning look. “Why?”

            Octavia shrugged, balancing up and down on her tiptoes. “I dunno, just a little antsy I guess.” The mission had left her slightly on edge, and she thought it might be helpful to talk to Rey about it. She had never met the girl, but from the short time Octavia had spent with the runaway Stormtrooper, Rey had come up in their conversation more times than she could count. Of course, they hadn’t spent too much time talking, but the times they had were pleasant.

            “Have you found Sira yet? She was freaking out about the possibility of your imminent death.” Liana had glanced back at the table filled with documents, as if her talking about Octavia dying was the most normal thing in the world. Well, with her job maybe it was.

            She shook her head. “I can’t ever seem to find her, so I just quit looking.”

            Her friend nodded, “Sounds about right.” Liana glanced back at the table one more time before grabbing Octavia’s arm and dragging her into the corner. She spoke in hushed tones. “Did you hear what happened with Han?”

            Octavia nodded sadly. “Yeah.” She hadn’t been close to him, but saying that he had been one of her idols would have been an understatement.

            Liana gave her a sad look, her face appearing tired all of a sudden. “The General’s not doing too good. She wants to be strong, but I can see right through her.”

            “Normally I kind of envy you getting to work with the General,” Well, sort of. “But I’m glad I’m not this time.”

            “Yeah,” Liana seemed to be a little unfocused, thinking about something else before snapping her attention back to her friend. “You should go, take a nap or something.”

            “But –” She was tired of the suggestion. Octavia didn’t look _that_ awful. Liana waved her away and Octavia left with a loud huff and an angry glare.

            She ran into Poe in the hallway. “What are you –”

            “I was just going in to see –”

            “Nope.” Octavia stopped him and turned him around, pushing him back to wherever he had come from. Poe started to complain, but she ignored him. “We’ve been banished. They’re working on something that’s probably important.”

            “But –”

            “No,” she silenced her friend. “You smell gross. It would be in everyone’s benefit if you took a shower.” Poe was still in his orange jumpsuit, identical to the one Octavia was wearing. But his was covered in grease spots – most likely due to his constant habit of checking on his ship after every mission – and smelled like sweat. The dark oil stains on his face weren’t helping matters much either.

            “I’ve gotta file a report on the mission.”

            “That can wait.”

            “For Kriff’s sake, Tav!” Poe threw his hands up in the air indignantly, “Fine!” Octavia could tell that her friend was trying to stay ad at her, but he was always pretty terrible at doing so.

            She grinned smugly, knowing that she always got her way. He batted her head playfully as he gently shoved past her, presumably to take a shower. Octavia followed not long after, deciding that she could use a shower, herself.

            The moment she entered her bedroom, she fell onto her bed in exhaustion. Octavia hadn’t realized how truly long the day had been, and to top it off they had lost more than half of their fleet. She was surprised that Poe hadn’t said anything about it, but it was possible that he was trying to avoid those thoughts altogether. If so, she needed to take a page from his book.

            Peeling off her jumpsuit, she tossed it into the storage container at the foot of her bed, deciding that she would do her laundry tomorrow. The last several hours had been full of madness, and now she just needed to take a hot shower and sleep.

            Of course, as luck would have it, a loud banging on her door sounded. She internally groaned and went to slip her jumpsuit back on, deciding it wouldn’t be wise to open the door in solely her undergarments. “Yes?” Octavia huffed, swinging the door open abruptly. Immediately she recognized the man as Snap, one of the subordinate officers of the fleet.

            “The _Falcon_ is back,” he said breathlessly, as if he had just run all the way from the control room to tell her. Maybe he had.

            Octavia’s jaw fell open, but she quickly closed it. “Finally!” She took off in a slight jog as she pushed pat the man, heading towards the docking bay. Up ahead she could already see a slight crowd forming, faces eager to catch a glimpse of the returning heroes. Octavia pushed her way to the front.

            As the ship landed, she was awestruck with how big it was compared to her normal X-wing that she was accustomed to flying. It was at least two times the size and, judging by how old it was, probably a pain in the ass to pilot.

            The door opened and everyone seemed to lean in, holding their breath. Chewbacca appeared first, seemingly carrying something, only to be followed by a solemn-faced girl who was carrying the wookie’s bowcaster. She seemed distraught, and only then did Octavia realize that the thing in Chewbacca’s arms was a person. He was bleeding all over the wookie’s furry arms, tingeing the man’s dark skin an ugly shade of red. Octavia leaned in closer, squinting; she recognized the jacket being worn by the injured man. It was the same one that Poe had worn nearly all day and every day before losing it in his crash on Jakku, only to find it being worn around by his savior. A _Stormtrooper_.

            Finn.

            Octavia hadn’t known the rogue Stormtrooper very well, but anyone who would save Poe really deserved a pat on the back. And by the looks of it, he was practically a war hero. The man didn’t deserve to die, especially at the hands of Kylo Ren.

            She clinched her fists tightly as the crowd watched the rush of medics pour out of the building, whisking Finn onto a stretcher and to the infirmary. Both Rey and Poe had taken off running behind them, but were stopped by General Organa. Octavia couldn’t quite make out what the older woman was saying, but it was enough for the two to relent. She watched for a moment longer before she noticed that she was being motioned over.

           “General?” She asked curiously. Octavia could tell that Rey was feeling a little uncomfortable, and she really wished that she could have a chance to talk to the girl.

            General Organa turned towards the base, silently telling the three of them to follow her. “We’re going to have a meeting. We have things to discuss.” Octavia nodded her head, moving her line of sight so that she could look at the younger girl without being too noticeable. It was only then that she noticed that Rey’s lightly colored robes were covered in blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Sira Nightlen was a very different type of girl. She made friends easily and wasn’t afraid of walking up to the first random person she saw, however the people she called her best friends were few and far between. She wasn’t picky per se, but she liked her friends with special qualities. And, okay, she wasn’t quite sure what qualities those were. But something in her head just told her that that person was going to be her best friend. And maybe that’s how she came to have two very different best friends.

  
Liana Demora was kind but blunt, never afraid to say what was on her mind. She worked with Leia and helped the Resistance with strategizing and planning, something which Sira found incredibly boring. She could not imagine working in a stuffy room with a bunch of stiff planners who had less of a personality than a speck of dirt.

  
Octavia Khaar was much different than Liana. Actually, Sira marveled at how the two of them had even gotten along. Octavia was sarcastic and – if Sira really wanted to get stabbed – was much more emotional than Liana. One moment she was happy, the next she was glaring daggers at anyone who walked by. Sira sometimes wondered what the hell the little voice in her head was telling her about her choice in friends, but most often she ignored the thought.

  
At the moment Sira was bored. And not just sort of bored. Incredibly bored. And worried. And pissed off at the fact that she couldn’t somehow contribute to such a huge – and dangerous – battle. She didn’t want her friends to die, but she didn’t want the First Order to gain the upper hand. She had sort of a personal vendetta against the First Order. Okay, so most people did, but Sira had a pretty big one.

  
A groan, a flop on the bed, another groan.

  
Sira watched impatiently as a fleck of dust flew up in the air, then landed next to her knee. She brushed it off, not wanting to deal with going to find cleaning supplies. No – she took that back. She was bored. So bored. Maybe cleaning could take her mind off of her mind swirling into a pit of nothing-ness. Maybe –

  
Knock! Knock! Knock!

  
Sira sat straight up on her bed, startled out of her practically non-existent-but-still-there thoughts. She leaped from her bed, literally, and landed on the floor ungracefully before scrambling to open the door.

  
“Well hello Master Sira, how are you today?” C-3PO stood in her doorway, looking as if he hadn’t just heard a large crash from Sira’s room. The large, humanoid droid was unlike many of the other droids Sira was used to, but maybe that was just because she was used to hanging around Octavia’s astromech droid, CT-19. He was tall and a golden-color, while his voice was a harsh but friendly robotic sound.

  
“I’m good, how are you?”

  
If the droid could shrug, he probably would have. “I’m doing quite well, in fact – Oh!” The droid put his hands up sheepishly, “Princess Le – I mean the general was asking for you. In the meeting area!”

  
“Really?” Sira wasn’t used to the general asking for her personally. She had been close with her once upon a time, but that seemed long ago. If anything, now she was only ever summoned in a group. And even that didn’t happen regularly. She smiled brightly, excitedly closing her door and heading to find the general. “Thanks Threepio!” She waved in the droid’s direction, running down the hall and turning the corner. Almost immediately, she was met with a crowded hallway full of chattering Resistance members and sweaty-looking pilots, their orange uniforms wet with perspiration. Her eyes widened, realizing that Octavia must be back.

  
She sped up her steps even more, weaseling through the corridor and ignoring annoyed looks from the others. She didn’t really care though, she had to make sure her best friend was alive and not maimed, or something equally as bad. Like death. Or an unending battle with some kind of wormhole –

  
Okay, Sira was getting a little out of hand.

  
“Sira!” She stopped, realizing that she had made it into her destination and promptly walked into a wall. The general was looking at her with a mixture of amusement and pity. Sira squirmed under her gaze; pity, that was the look the general had always seemed to give her whenever she saw her. “Are you alright?”

  
Sira nodded. “Yeah, just a little spacey.” She looked around the room, finally spotting the tall blonde girl, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She was sweaty and flushed – likely from the mission – and her uniform looked like it needed to be washed. Next to her, it appeared that Commander Dameron had fared no better. “Octavia!” Sira jumped up, “You didn’t die!” Octavia rolled her eyes, but her laugh told Sira that she loved her friend’s antics. Sira loved to make everything overdramatic; it was her specialty.

  
The blonde put her hands on her hips proudly, “Well I am the best shooter in the Resistance.” She made a little pew! pew! sound as her hands made the shape of a gun.

  
“Conceited much?” Dameron asked, raising his eyebrows at the girl.

  
“Me?” Octavia laughed, “That’s funny coming from you, Mister ‘Best Pilot in the Resistance’.”

  
“One time.” Poe muttered.

  
She rolled her eyes. “BS.” Sira laughed at the two, only then noticing Liana whispering something to the general. Sira looked to her friend questioningly, but was only given a smirk in response. Sira gave her friend a friendly glare.

  
“Sira,” The general got brought her to attention, “I bet you’re wondering what you’re all doing here.” Sira nodded. The general moved to speak again, stopping to hush the two pilots before continuing, facing the rest of the small group. “I’m sure all of you know that the destruction of the Hosnian system would have some great effects on our Resistance. Well, the New Republic has informed us that they will be unable to send in supplies for a while.” She paused as several gasps were heard throughout the room, only continuing once it was silent again. “I have recently been in contact with the Republic and they have requested that they send their refugees here. I have, of course, said ‘yes’.”

  
“But what does that mean?” Dameron interrupted, only to be shot with a glare from Liana. The man shrunk back as the general continued.

  
The woman looked around the room, gauging her audience. “It means we will have to be careful. We will be moving everyone into shared rooms, some people with three or more.” A groan from someone in the back; everyone else was silent as they stared at the woman. She fixed her eyes ahead of her as Sira stood in awe of the woman, so brave and never quitting. “I expect everyone to be prepared to move rooms in the morning; I have had help putting together a list of who will room with whom. Also, I expect everyone to be prepared to start rationing food and materials; we will begin training harder than ever before. Starting this week there will be a downpour of Republic refugees that had their homes destroyed. I want everyone to be on their best behavior.

  
“Now,” she fixed her gaze on Sira, “we will be sorting all of the refugees into groups. I want everyone to be prepared to help out with training. Sira,” Sira flinched, “you have been a loyal member of the Alpha group of pathfinders, and your commanding officers have had nothing but good things to say about you.” Sira looked at the older woman, confused. The general smiled. “We will be instituting many of the more capable refugees into the pathfinders system, however we cannot afford to stick them into one of the more advanced groups due to their lack of training. So, Liana and I have worked to create the Delta squadron, which you will train and – once you are ready – take them out on missions.”

  
Sira’s mouth fell open. “Wait, I’m training them? I’m –”

  
The general smiled kindly. “Leading them, yes.” She moved closer to Sira, so that the she could see the look a proud mother might have on the old woman’s face. Sira almost wanted to cry in happiness. “It will be hard work, I know, but we think that you are the best person for the job.”

  
“I –I don’t know what to say.” She had so many emotions running through her. Elation, excitement, anxiety, fear.

  
Another smile. “You don’t have to say anything. Do you accept the job?”

  
Sira nodded.

  
“Then congratulations, Sergeant Nightlen.”

  
Her mouth dropped open. Sergeant. She was a Sergeant. Sira hadn’t expected that, and judging by the amused look on the general’s face, Sira was making her shock completely clear to everyone in the room. She was lucky she didn’t embarrass easily.

  
“Thank you.” Sira grinned. The general looked like she was about to say something when a little droid rolled into the room, cutting her off. Sira’s eyes widened; R2-D2 was awake. It silently rolled over and flashed what looked to be a broken map over its projector.

  
Dameron gasped, only then to look over and see his little orange and tan droid roll over to the larger droid, Octavia’s droid following behind the other. BB-8 projected the last half of the map to complete R2’s and General Organa took a step forward.

  
“Luke,” she breathed out quiet enough that only the select few around her could hear. “Rey,” she turned to the girl that Sira only just noticed standing next to Chewbacca. Sira’s eyes filled with tears; it had been too long since she’s seen Chewie. “I need you to go find Luke.”

  
The girl gave a surprising yelp. “Me?”

  
She nodded. “You need to be trained, and my brother is the only one who can do it.” Rey nodded silently in agreement. “Artoo and Chewie will go with you.”

  
“What about Finn?” She looked at the general almost pleadingly, and the older woman gave the girl a small smile.

  
“We’ll take care of your friend. He’ll be just fine.” Rey nodded, seeming to make up her mind. Sira admired the girl, part of her wishing that she could go with her. Oh, what she could do with her own lightsaber. But she quickly turned her thoughts away; thinking about that would lead her to thoughts of the First Order, and would make her think about – No. She wouldn’t go there.

  
Sira turned her head just in time to see Rey leave the room, Octavia quickly following behind the girl. Apparently she needed to talk to her. Sira shrugged, now not really sure what to do. Liana moved over to her after the group dispersed.  
“In case you were wondering, the three of us are sharing Octavia’s room.”

  
“Ughhhhh.” Sira didn’t feel like moving all of her junk, but at least now she could get a head start. The halls would be crowded with anxious people waiting to see their roommates in the morning.

  
“C’mon,” Liana dragged her across the room, “Let’s go move our stuff.”

* * *

 

Sira sat crisscrossed on Liana’s new bed. The two girls had managed to get some help from a couple of the male pathfinders, who dragged in their bunk beds after about thirty minutes. Liana had quickly claimed the bottom bunk, but Sira didn’t mind too much. Now she was just sitting, watching as her new roommate unpacked her crap in the corner. The girls had brought a mini stackable dresser with them, in order to give them a little more room.

  
“Kriff! What did you do to my room?” Octavia was standing in the middle of the doorway with her mouth hanging open. She didn’t look happy. It was understandable, as her bed was pushed to the opposite end of the room and the bunk beds were squeezed at the other end.

  
“We’re living together, roomie.” Liana raised her eyebrows.

  
Octavia looked like she was going to pass out. “I thought the general was joking!”

  
“Leia doesn’t joke.” Liana didn’t look up from her work of unpacking.

  
“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Sira happily laid back on the bed, content with not having to move anything else.

  
Octavia rolled her eyes. “I’m going to die.” She moved to her own side of the room. “Or kill one of you in your sleep.”

  
“Rude.” Sira huffed, a smile still on her face. She was thankful she didn’t get stuck in a different room. Even if she was in a hall filled with noisy pilots.

  
“Just warning you,” Liana said, stuffing something in one of the drawers by the bed, “I have to get up early to help out Leia with some new strategy or whatever.”

  
“Ughhh,” Octavia groaned, “You always have to get up early. And you’re soooo loud.”

  
“It’s not my fault I’m a klutz.”

  
“Which is why you’re on strategy duty.”

  
“I’ll have you know, I’m very good at my job.” Liana laughed at her friend.

  
“Yeah yeah,” The blonde girl cracked a smile, “Just try not to wake me up before lunch.”

  
“I don’t know how you sleep that much.” Sira looked at her friend in disbelief, not moving from her spot on the bed.

  
Her friend shrugged. “Takes practice.” Sira shook her head while Liana just laughed. The living arrangement might be a bit of a struggle, Sira concluded, but they would make it work.

  
The two girls watched as Liana finished unpacking before Sira yawned, then went to ask Octavia about what had happened earlier. “What were you following Rey for?”

  
Octavia looked up in surprise, then shrugged. “I just wanted to talk to her, ya know? I hadn’t met her before, and I wanted to ask how everything was. Did you know she fought Kylo Ren and won?” Sira shivered at the name, but nodded.

  
“It’s amazing.” She sat up. “What about that Stormtrooper? What happened to him?”

  
Octavia gave a sad sigh. “I’m not sure. Rey said that he was injured pretty badly by Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. She – she’s not sure what’s gunna happen to him. None of us are.” The blonde ran a hand through her hair. “I wish I’d taken the time to get to know him a little better. Poe’s taking it pretty hard.”

  
Liana raised an eyebrow. “They knew each other?”

  
Octavia nodded. “Yeah, Finn rescued him. Sort of. And Poe – he, Poe named him. I think they’ve been pretty close since then. A weird sort of relationship, but I get it. They each thought the other one was dead, and when they saw each other I think they were shocked. But happy. Poe’s a little hard to get along with, so he kind of needed another friend.”

  
“Poor Finn.” Sira felt bad for the guy. He was an ex-Stormtrooper with most likely no knowledge about anything, and once he’d finally gotten up the courage to flee the First Order he got skewered by the one guy who had always had command over him. What a sucky life.

  
She rolled over on the bed, much to the protests of Liana since it wasn’t, in fact, Sira’s bed. But at this moment she had to sort out her thoughts. It had been a long day. The attack on Starkiller Base that she couldn’t help with, no matter how much she wanted to; finding out that no, her friends didn’t die; the promotion; Finn. Ughhh, she was going to explode. Thank the Maker the day was almost over. She needed sleep, and she needed it now.

  
But – Wait. She was being shoved off the bed. She was – What? What was happening? Where –

  
“Sira, go to sleep in your own bed.” Oh. Liana was standing above her, trying to pull her off of the bed.

  
“Sorry,” she mumbled, nearly falling on her face as she climbed up the ladder into her own bed. She heard Octavia snort in amusement from the other side of the room, but Sira ignored her in favor of climbing into her own bed.

  
“I need food.” Octavia announced, “I haven’t eaten all day. Anyone want anything?” The girls both shook their heads. “Okay,” The blonde shrugged and left the room. Sira sighed, her body relaxing as she waited for sleep to overcome her. It had been a long, long day. She was tense. She was tired. And jeez, she should probably start planning for that new unit she was going to have to lead, but at this moment she was done. Done with everything. She needed to let herself rest for the time being.

* * *

 

The base hummed with nervous energy as people lined up to discover who they would be stuck rooming with. Sira thanked the Maker that she and Liana had already moved into Octavia’s room, saving them from the trouble of having to move all of their junk through the crowded hallways. She turned around, only to bump into someone that was not there. Sira looked around, confused, only to discover a little black and orange droid at her feet.

  
“Hi Seetee. How are you?” Sira had always found the little droid to be adorable.

  
_Hello friend-Sira._ It happily chirped, rolling between her legs as if it thought it was much smaller than it really was.

  
She had to move her arms around to keep her balance before laughing. “What are you doing?” The droid moved its head, making it appear like a shrugging motion, before letting out a long string of beeps. Sira held her hands up, “Whoa, slow down. What did Octavia do?” It beeped a few more times before Sira realized what it was saying. “What do you mean she didn’t want you to play with Beebee-Ate?”

  
The droid gave a sad beep.

  
Sira rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s Beebee-Ate who is teaching you to curse.” Octavia could be really stubborn when it came to – well, most things. And whenever she got angry, she tended to curse. A lot. And apparently her little droid was picking up on it.

  
Another beep.

  
“Okay, okay, I’ll talk to her.” _Yay!_  The droid trailed behind her happily as Sira went to find her friend. Which, judging by the fact that it wasn’t yet noon, would probably be easy. She shrugged her way past hordes of people as she made it through the too-full hallway. It was a terrible idea having everyone line up all at once, because no one was truly lined up. It was more like several people fighting their way to the front of the group, while people like Dameron – who Sira had seen earlier – were using their higher status to make people get out of the way. Sira rolled her eyes and decided she would talk to Liana about the mess later. Right now she had a little droid to help out.

  
She anxiously walked up to her new room, knocking on the door a couple of times before hearing no answer. Sighing, she pushed open the door and flipped on the light switch. “Octavia, I need to talk to you.”

  
Sira could hear the angry groan – or was it a growl? – from the other side of the room. “What the kriff do you want?!”

  
She motioned to CT-19 behind her. “You have an angry droid wanting to yell at you.”

  
Another groan could be heard before Sira saw Octavia roll over in her bed so that she was facing them. “Dammit Seetee, I told you to let me sleep.”

  
_Master, I obviously ignored that in favor of helping you see reason._

  
Octavia glared at her little friend. “When did you get so sassy?”

  
_I pick things up from you occasionally._

  
The blonde girl rolled her eyes. “I blame Poe.”

  
_I would agree he has part of the blame._

  
“Are you here for a reason or are you just trying to keep me from sleeping?”

  
_I do think Master needs to get her butt up, however that is not what I came here for._  Another glare, and Sira had to clamp her mouth shut lest she let out an incredibly loud laugh at the comment. _I cannot find BB-8._

  
Octavia sat up from her spot on the bed, clearly irritated from her peace being disturbed. She ran a hand through her messy bed-head before turning to look at the black-and-orange droid. “Didn’t I tell you to chill out with the whole hanging out with Beebe-Ate thing all of the time?”

  
_Just because Master wants to annoy friend-Poe doesn't mean I or BB-8 need to be included._

  
“Hey,” she held up her hands. “They are bad influences on you.”

  
_Master is a bad influence._

  
Sira snorted, only to be silenced with a glare by her friend. Octavia rolled her eyes, but sighed in defeat. “Fine, go find Beebee. But I’m not telling you where Poe is.”

  
The droid huffed something that sounded like  _'You're no help'_ before turning around and rolling out the door. Sira turned to her friend. “Do you really think Poe is the bad influence here?”

  
The girl shrugged before climbing out of bed and searching for clothes in the little dresser at the foot of her bed. “I don’t know, but last week Seetee showed up for bed telling me that ‘friend-Poe said me and Beebee-Ate are his favorite droids’.”

  
“What’s the problem with that?”

  
Octavia gave her friend a look. “He told me about it for the next four hours.” Sira giggled, but shut her mouth, leaving the room before Octavia could start yelling about how annoyed she was at being woken up again. She laughed. Sometimes her life was crazy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for reading, and also putting up with my weird formatting issues. I apologize for that! I'm kinda new to this website and haven't posted much. With that being said, I hope you guys are in for a long ride. I want this story tok feature romance, but I'm also taking this story in my own direction and using my favorite theories on what could happen in the later movies. I hope you all enjoy, and as always feel free to let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

            Octavia trudged through the mess hall, angrily making her way to the food line. Grabbing her tray, she avoided eye contact with the blue Twi’lek male who seemed to be looking at her curiously, favoring instead to load up her tray with whatever goop was for lunch that day. It wasn’t all bad, really. Sometimes it tasted good, other times it tasted like barf. But the one thing she could always count on was giving whatever leftovers she might have to Snap; the man was a human garbage chute.

            The room smelled like some kind of spice, stinging her nose as she walked past the numerous rows of tables. Looking towards a small corner, she opted for sitting with a group of pilot from Blue Squadron, who motioned her over with smiles on their faces. A few others were there as well, including Snap and Jessika Pava, who were two pilots she had grown close with that weren’t named “Poe.” She took her seat in between Jess and Kare Kun before glaring at the table, realizing she forgot to grab a cup of Caf. She was in no mood for this, but decided against getting up from the table.

            “What’s up, kid?” Kare asked, moving her tray to the side to make room for Octavia’s.

            “I’m tired and angry,” she mumbled, shoveling a spoonful of the day’s slop into her mouth.

            Jess raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just wake up?”

            Octavia glared, “That’s why I’m angry.” And she forgot her Caf. But who was counting? Oh wait, she was.

            “Issues!” Jess sing-songed, earning a slap on the arm from the girl next to her.         

            “Really though,” Kare interjected, laughing at the two women, “I don’t know how you sleep so much.”

            “So I’ve been told.” Octavia grumbled, taking another bite of her mystery food.

            “You know what?” Jess’s eyes lit up suddenly as she hopped up and down in her seat, “We just defeated Starkiller Base! We need to celebrate!”

            “Hmmm, no we don’t.” Octavia said.

            Jess rolled her eyes. “Yes we do!”

            “I agree,” Snap spoke up from across the table, already on his third bowl of whatever-the-kriff-it-was. “We deserve to have a little relaxation.”

            “Yes!” Jess pumped her fist in the air, much to Octavia’s chagrin. “This will be so much fun!”

            “What’s gunna be fun?” Poe’s sudden voice behind her almost made Octavia jump. Almost.

            “We’re gunna celebrate taking down Starkiller!” Jess announced proudly, Kare and Snap nodding with her. Octavia inwardly groaned when Poe agreed, his face lighting up with one of those I’m-Poe-Dameron smiles that only Poe Dameron, himself, could pull off. She wanted to slap it off of him. “That sounds fantastic!”

            “Do you think the General would mind?” Jess asked, actively avoiding Octavia’s intense glare that was trained on her face.

            Poe shook his head, “Nah, I doubt she would care too much.”

            “Then it’s settled,” Jess clapped her hands together in excitement.

            “I hate you all,” Octavia grumbled, earning a laugh from her friends. She sighed, but couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face. She finished her food before pushing her tray back, analyzing the room she was in. It was fairly full, and most of the base wasn’t even eating at the moment. Octavia couldn’t imagine what it would be like once the refugees arrived.

            Poe moved to sit next to Snap, his hands curled around his own cup of Caf. Octavia glared at it before wrinkling her nose as an acrid smell hit her nostrils. She coughed, looking up at the dark-haired man in confusion. “What were you doing?”

            The pilot gave her a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “I went to visit Finn in the med bay earlier, and – hah, I may have gotten some of the Bacta spilled on me.”

            Octavia raised an eyebrow at him. “How in the kriff did you do that?”

            He shrugged, a blush crawling up his neck. “I wasn’t paying attention and I may have fallen in a vat of the stuff.”

            She shook her head, a laugh escaping her mouth. “You are the biggest idiot, I swear it to the Maker.”

            He snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. And now the General’s sending me on a supply run to get more.”

            Octavia perked up, no longer glaring at the man’s Caf due to her own laziness that kept her from getting one of her own. “Can I come? I’m bored out of my mind.”

            Poe nodded, as if he was expecting her question. And, in all reality, he probably was. Octavia rarely passed up an opportunity to bug Poe on missions. “Yeah, we can go as soon as you’re done eating.”

            Octavia looked down at her finished bowl of she-still-had-no-idea-what-it-was. “I’m done.”

            Poe nodded, and as the two moved to leave Jess called. “Don’t forget about the celebration tonight!”

            Poe grinned. “I wouldn’t dare. Lots of alcohol!”

            “Like you need it.” The dark-haired female chuckled. Poe waved them off as he turned the corner, Octavia following close behind.

            The pair made their way out to the docking bay, a few of the pilots who were working on their ships waving to them as they passed. Octavia took in the sight sadly. There were far fewer ships now than before the battle, and though that was the common theme with any major conflict they engaged in, it seemed as if they had lost more men this time. She wondered if any of the refugees from Hosnian Prime would be able to fly.

            “What?” Poe looked at her with confusion, and it was then that she realized she’d been voicing her thoughts out loud.

            Octavia shrugged. “I was just wondering if we would be training any more pilots, what with the refugees coming here and all.”

            Poe glanced over at her, a smile on his face. “I was actually talking to the General about that earlier.”

            She gave him a smug look. “Was that before or after the Bacta incident?”

            He rolled his eyes. “After. But that’s beside the point,” he elbowed her when she opened her mouth to retort, “She agreed that I’ll probably need help with training them, so I suggested to promote you to Black Two.”

            “Your second in command?” He nodded. “So I’ll be in charge of both squadrons, not just Red?”

            “Yep!”

            “Poe!” She groaned. “I was already that anyway!”

            “But now it’s official!”

            Octavia snorted. “You just didn’t want me to skip out on training the newbies.”

            “Pretty much.” She elbowed him. Hard. “Ow! Tav!” He whined.

            “You are such a wimp.” He stuck his tongue out at her and she shook her head in amusement. “Hey,” a light bulb moment, “can I have my ship customized to a different color now then?”

            Poe shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

            She pumped her fist like a child. “Yes!” Octavia hopped into her ship, now – officially – Black Two, and prepared for take off. Maybe this day wouldn’t be quite so bad after all. 

* * *

 

            Sira halfheartedly wandered around the base, taking in all of the people moving supplies from one room to another. A group of pilots had just gotten back from a supply run, having to get extra food in preparation for the refugees that were supposed to start coming in later that afternoon. Several of the pathfinders in her old unit were helping out, and as much as Sira wanted to join them, she was given strict orders by the General to wait for the refugees to show up. Apparently she was one of the few chosen to guide them around the base.

            She sighed, bored out of her mind. She clutched a piece of paper tightly, a list of names printed out with the room number of the person next to it. If Liana weren’t in a debriefing with General Organa, then she would probably go ask her friend to do something with her. _Anything_. But as it were, Liana was busy yet again, so she was left to her own devices.

            “Sergeant Nightlen!” Sira turned to see a young medic running up to her, the sleeves of his Resistance-issued scrubs rolled up past his elbows. He paused when he appeared in front of her, clearly out of breath. He held up a piece of paper. “I have a list of the new Delta recruits. Nurse Jada told me to make sure you get all of your trainees in for a checkup.”

            Sira’s mouth nearly fell open. It was _her_ job to make sure everyone had gotten their annual checkup? She pinched the bridge of her nose before deciding that brooding wasn’t going to make anything better. No, brooding was bad. Bad Sira. She gave the medic a smile. “Okay, thanks!” He smiled back, clearly relieved that she had taken the news well.

            Well, of course she had. The first thing to being a leader was accepting responsibility, right? Sira had a job to do. A very tedious job, but a job nonetheless. And if she couldn’t get a simple task like making sure her new unit all had their shots and stuff taken care of, then wouldn’t that make her a bad leader? No. Sira wouldn’t allow it.

            She had a lot of people depending on her. There was a list, actually: General Organa, Liana, Octavia, the pilots, the pathfinders, the strategists, and… others. Sira was getting ahead of herself. And since when did she have time to create this list?

            Okay okay, back to the job now. What was it? Oh, right!

            Sira looked down at her lists and sighed, then headed to the clearing where the refugees would soon be arriving.

* * *

 

**Xucphra City, Thyferra**

 

            The pair of pilots arrived on the little green planet a couple of hours later, a swarm of Vratix surrounding them with a series of _clicks_ and other sounds unrecognizable to Octavia’s ears. They were rather ugly creatures, tall insectoids with long necks and three pairs of claw-like legs and scales covering the full of their bodies. They were a yellowish-brown, the color one might compare to a muddy puddle of piss.

            Poe helped Octavia down from her ship, the Thyferrans immediately moving around them to form a tight circle that had the female pilot wondering if the species had ever heard of personal space. She turned to Poe, who was clutching her tight and trying not to look uncomfortable. “Do you know how to speak Vratix?”

            He shook his head, looking around them with caution. The creatures weren’t known for being violent, however no one ever really expected their own death in the first place. Poe took a slight step forward, “Do any of you speak Basic?”

            At the question a cacophony of _clicks_ surrounded them, continuing for several moments before one of the Vratix stepped up. The entire clearing was washed in a wave of silence, Octavia’s mouth hanging open in shock at the sudden lack of noise. She and Poe stayed quiet, waiting for the creature to speak up.

            “ _We_ speak little of your words,” it spoke in a sharp tongue, a path opening up in front of them. “What have you come here?”

            “We have come to speak with the Canir about getting some of your Bacta,” Poe replied, his eyesight directed towards the Vratix who had spoken to them. “I am Commander Poe Dameron, Pilot of the Resistance, and this,” he gestured to his partner, “is Lieutenant Commander Octavia Khaar, also a Pilot of the Resistance.”

            “ _We_ are Canir,” the Vratix answered, referring to itself. It turned, moving past the other creatures through the open path. “Come.”

            They obliged, Octavia squeezing past the swarm as she followed closely behind Poe, the insectoids seemingly moving in closer to her with each step. As the pilots walked, the path behind them gradually closed up, leaving them no room to escape back to their ships if need be. It made Octavia’s chest tightly constrict, not having an easy out in the situation making her heart pound uneasily.

            The city of Xucphra was overall a fairly pleasant place to visit. The atmosphere made the bustling city appear less crowded than it actually was and, coupled with the tropical weather, could have been a fairly nice place to vacation. However, the clouds in the distance indicated that there was a rainstorm in the near future. Octavia hoped that they would be indoors before it hit.

            They followed the Vratix leader down a windy path before entering a large, dimly lit building with peeling walls clouded in dust. Several workers, Vratix and humans alike, moved throughout the building in a hurry, carrying thick tubes of a clear gelatinous substance Octavia knew as Bacta. She peered around a large stack of boxes, seeing even more Bacta tubes piled on top of each other.

            “You have credit?” The creature asked, moving carefully through the over-crowded room while the two pilots quickly followed, trying not to trip over the random machine parts and boxes scattered on the floor.

            “Yes,” Poe not-so-gracefully leaped over a goo-filled bag on the ground, nearly falling on his face, “I do.” The creature nodded, leading them through the large room and through a door connecting to a cleaner, more regulated room. The boxes filled with the substance were stacked in a more organized fashion, shipment numbers written on the sides of each one.

            Octavia looked around as Poe continued to follow the Thyferran. She stood by the edge of the foot of an upwards-leading staircase, watching as workers hastily moved up and down carrying Bacta tubes and boxes. She flinched as she saw a young human boy drop one of his bags, his face scrunching up as it broke and thick goo went everywhere. He looked as if he were trying to keep tears from falling as Octavia hurried over, feeling bad for the kid.

            “Do you need help?” She asked hesitantly. He couldn’t have been more than a few years younger than her, his face sharp and clean-shaven. The boy looked up at her through wild blonde locks, blue eyes shining.

            “Don’t hurt me.” He said, taking a step back. His arms were still full as he tried not to trip on the slick floor.

            Octavia’s eyes widened in shock. “Why would I hurt you?”

            He shook his head, eyes not meeting hers. “ _They_ don’t want me to waste anything. _They_ said they would hurt us if they didn’t get their supplies.”

            Octavia was beginning to feel a sense of urgency now. “Who?” The boy didn’t answer, so she moved closer to get a better look at him. He flinched away. “Please, we can help you.”

            He shook his head, his eyes squeezed together tightly.

            Octavia was silent for a moment. “Do you have a name?” No response. “My name is Octavia.”

            Nearly a minute went by before the boy spoke “Hakk.”

            She bit the inside of her cheek wearily, not wanting to startle him. “It’s nice to meet you, Hakk.” The boy nodded as if in reply to her. “Please,” she insisted, “tell me who’s hurting you.”

Another moment of silence, then “Th- the First Order.” He stuttered, hands shaking. “They came a couple of months ago.”

            The pilot gaped. “Are they here _now_?”

            The boy trembled. “Not many. There are a couple dozen in a base on the other side of the planet.”

            “Shit,” Octavia cursed, clenching her fists tightly at the side of her hips. She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do before shaking her head and bolting out the door. She had to tell Poe. She _had_ to tell Poe. _She had to-_

            Poe was in the middle of bargaining with the Vratix, both of them stopping mid-sentence when they saw her. She froze before giving an awkward wave. They needed this Bacta. Her friend raised an eyebrow at her before turning back to his conversation. He motioned her over when he was finished, handing her a box to carry as he held a box of his own.

            As the two exited the building, pleasantly bidding their farewells and making careful movements as not to drop anything, Poe turned to Octavia. “What were you going to say in there?” His voice was quiet, as not to alert any of the other citizens around them.

            Octavia gave him a wide-eyed look, breathless from her discovery. “The First Order is here!” She hissed under her breath.

            Poe nearly dropped his box, startled. “What?!”

            “The boy. There was a boy working in the factory.” She shook her head in anger. “He told me the First Order had a base on the other side of the planet.”

            “A big one?”

            “No,” Octavia gulped, “they haven’t been here long. A month, I think he said. There’s about two dozen on base.”

            “Kriff.” Poe cursed, still holding tightly to the box in his arms, “We’ve gotta tell the General.” Octavia nodded. “C’mon.” The two hastily retraced their steps, following the windy path that they had taken earlier on their way to the factory. The wind was picking up, and Octavia could feel little raindrops hitting her forearms as they trudged on. The sky was already beginning to turn a menacing dark gray.

            “We need to hurry,” Octavia grunted, trying to find a better grip on her Bacta-filled box.

            “Yeah,” Poe agreed, picking up the pace. He glanced behind him every once in a while to make sure Octavia hadn’t fallen behind. Octavia appreciated the gesture, she really did, but it bugged her that Poe _still_ didn’t seem to trust her. But then again, he had always been a bit overprotective. It was in his nature, she supposed. Kes had always been like that too. It must have been a Dameron thing.

            “Fuck!” Octavia cursed, tripping on a lone tree branch. She fell. Hard. “Ow!” She hit her knee, a large gash appearing as pain exploded in her right leg. “Son of a Bantha!”

            “Tav?” Poe looked back in time to see her fall, gasping as he rushed over to her. The pilot leaned down, setting his own box down and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Stars! Can you get up?”

            She nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Fuck! Okay, okay. Hold on. Hold on, dammit!”

            “Sorry, sorry!” Poe moved so he was holding her in a better position and bent to pick up her box, gently handing it to her. “Can you walk?” She nodded, heavily leaning on him but still moving. Slowly.

           The rain droplets were already beginning to splatter on the ground, coming in more rapid succession. Octavia had to grip her box tightly as the water threatened to make her lose her handle on it. No, she had to make it. They had to get off the planet to warn everyone about the threat to the Resistance. The General had to know.

           Octavia grunted, gritting her teeth through the pain. She was feeling dizzy. No, she was being a wimp. If Finn could get his back sliced by a lightsaber then she could definitely keep walking with a branch sticking out of her leg. She had a mission to complete and she’d be damned if a fucking tree got in her way.

           “We’re almost there,” Poe encouraged, struggling one-handed under the weight of his box as he tried to hold Octavia up with his other arm. “You’ve got it.”

           Octavia opted for silence, deciding it would be best to keep her mouth shut lest she reply with something snarky. He was only trying to help.

           By the time they reached the clearing where the X-Wings were docked, both Poe and Octavia were drenched. She could already feel the water seeping through her clothes, a mixture of blood and dirt swirling at her feet. She sat her box down on the ground as Poe moved to put his in the compartment of Octavia’s ship.

            He turned back to her. “Can you fly?” From its spot tucked into the controls on top of the ship, Seetee made a worried _beep_. “It’s okay, buddy.” Poe reassured the little droid. A confused beep.

            “I’ll be okay.” Octavia replied, both to Poe’s question and her droid’s concern.

            Poe nodded. “I’m going to hoist you up, okay?” His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, making his typically perfect curls look unruly and messy. Octavia would have laughed if not for the pain in her leg, instead moving her arms around Poe’s shoulder as he helped her climb aboard the ship. She winced in pain, the branch still wedged tightly in her flesh. It was too long and sticking out of the ship hatch. “Hold on a sec,” Poe dashed to his own ship, only to reemerge with a first aid kit and a large knife.

            “What the –”

            “Hold on or you’ll make it worse!” The man crawled up the side of the ship so that he was carefully balancing on the wing as he leaned over to where Octavia was sitting in the cockpit, the snapped branch sticking out of the space. She bit her lip as he gripped the knife, trying to keep it from slipping from his grasp as the rain kept pouring on them. Poe gently grabbed the tree branch and brought the knife up to it, sawing back and forth so that there would be just enough wood for the medics to pull it out with when they returned to the base.

            Octavia gripped the sides of the ship tight and gritted her teeth as the pilot worked for several minutes, finally breaking off the top of the branch so that she could close the hatch. “Hold on,” Poe put up a finger and reached into his medic kit, pulling out a roll of gauze. “My mom used to tell me that you need to apply pressure to a wound that kept bleeding.”

           Octavia gave him a strange look. “There’s branch sticking out of my leg.”

           “Not like that,” he rolled his eyes, moving to tighten the gauze around either side of the branch. “We need to keep it in place, so it doesn’t move and damage anything else.”

           “Oh,” she nodded. _You can’t die!_ CT-19 exclaimed through a series of beeps. Octavia smiled and held her hand over her heart. “I won’t. Promise.” _Good!_

           “Okay, you’re all patched up.” He pulled back, his hair falling into his eyes. “Will you be alright?”

           A nod. “Yeah, let’s go.” They had a mission to finish.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Resistance Base, D'Qar**

As soon as they arrived Poe hopped out of his X-Wing and went running towards the medical bay, looking for the first doctor he could find. He knew that Tav was probably cursing him for putting up such a fuss, but Poe had lost soldiers from a lot less. And he certainly wasn't going to let his best friend die of blood loss from a broken tree branch lodged in her leg.

The halls were much more crowded than when he had left, rows upon rows of people lined up along the walls. He went to grab the doctor standing off to the side with a clipboard, only then noticing that many of the refugees looked dirty and wounded. Some of the ones who had been home and lucky enough to escape before it blew up had burn marks, several layers of gauze soaked with blood to patch them up. Some of their heads were shaved, so that the medical staff could tend to the wounds underneath. Others looked to be missing limbs, either burnt off or lost in war.

There were children running around, tattered clothes barely covering their thin frames. One boy looked to be wearing a bloodstained makeshift eye patch, but he was still smiling as he chased the other kids around.

Poe suddenly felt guilty. Here there were hundreds of injured refugees, and he was about to take away one of the doctors for his own selfish reasons. Well, Tav's reasons. But that didn't make him feel any less sad.

The doctor turned, a smile immediately lighting up his face. "Ah Commander Dameron, to what do I owe the pleasure? You didn't injure yourself again, I hope."

Poe shook his head, trying to ignore the several pairs of eyes that were all of a sudden trained on him. In hindsight, the pilot probably did stick out among the crowds of wounded people. They were practically wearing rags, while he stood in the hall in almost clean, form fitting Resistance-issued clothing that barely had a single hole in them. He felt a little out of place, and hoped that the base would have enough material to make them their own clothes. He knew they were already running out.

"No, uh. It's Tav." The doctor gave him a look that told Poe that he needed to elaborate. He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the right words but coming up with nothing. "We flew out to get more Bacta, but we, uh – she tripped and fell on a tree branch. And it's still in her leg."

The doctor looked like he was trying not to laugh, and given the situation surrounding them it probably wouldn't have been a good idea. But years of being a trained medical practitioner had apparently given the doctor the ability to quickly compose himself. He gave a slight nod. "Very well," he spoke quickly, "bring her to the back room and we'll see what we can do."

Poe gave a quick nod of thanks before heading back out to the hangar. He looked up, just in time to see Tav glaring at him from the position by her ship. She was leaning against it, obviously to keep from putting weight on her right leg, but her arms were crossed in normal Tav fashion.

"Why did you do that?" She hissed when he came closer. He was close enough to see the blood already soaking through the wrap on her leg, and the thin sheen of sweat that had appeared on her forehead due to the pain.

"What do you mean?" Poe feigned innocence. But she had never bought it and probably never would.

"You know what."

Poe rolled his eyes, "You think I'm just going to leave you here with a  _branch_ in your leg?" He put his arms in the air for emphasis, but she wasn't having any of it.

Tav set her jaw. "There are  _hundreds_ of injured refugees from the New Republic here! I don't want to waste any of the supplies if we can afford it."

"We can't afford to lose  _you_!"

"The Resistance has plenty of pilots."

"But  _I_  only have one you!"

"Dammit Poe!" she growled, her eyes narrowing, "Don't bring that up!" She huffed, pacing a couple of times in a circle before doubling back in pain from her wound.

"I'm sorry," Poe's voice softened, knowing he had won by the sag of defeat shown in her posture. He scratched the back of his neck guiltily, "I know you don't want me to bring them up and – kriff! – I don't want to talk about my mom any more than you do. But, dammit Tav – she wouldn't want you acting like you mean nothing to the Resistance!"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Shara was a great woman" Poe winced at the name "but you know as well as I do that she'd rather the others get their medicine first."

It was true – Poe knew that. His mother was the most selfless person he'd ever met. And yet, he was sure that he wouldn't want her son's best friend – practically her own daughter – to refuse treatment if she could help it. So, against his better judgment, Poe scooped Tav up bridal style.

Her reaction was almost comical. The young pilot had clearly not expected Poe to pick her up, as her eyes widened nearly to the size of saucers and her arms flailed for a moment before punching Poe in the arm. "Hey, watch it or I'll drop you."

"Kriffing hell, Poe!" She shouted, angrily glaring daggers at him. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but made only halfhearted attempts. Poe could tell that her leg was really bothering her, as she gave up within a couple of minutes. Finally she sighed and relaxed, to which Poe was grateful for; he still had to carry her across the loading bay and into the medical wing.

Their short trip was full of Poe getting strange looks from the people he passed, including some of his own pilots. However, with the amount of trouble he got himself into on a regular basis, the onlookers were smart enough not to question him.

By the time they reached the doctor, Tav was already leaning against his chest in exhaustion. The blood loss was most likely making her dizzy, which only quickened Poe's pace down the hall. A few of the refugee children pointed at them, only to be silenced by their mothers. Poe kind of felt bad for them, knowing that they were only curious. And it didn't really bother him. They  _were_ quite the sight.

The doctor motioned them into one of the medical rooms, where Poe put Tav down on the bed in the middle of the room. The white sheets were paper-thin and scratchy, something he knew all too well from his many trips to the medic's office. Tav grunted in discomfort as her leg hit the edge of the mattress, but she said no more.

Poe stepped back as a medical droid entered the room, its long arms stretched out with a basket of supplies and antiseptics. The doctor turned to face Poe, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave while I operate on the patient. It shouldn't take too long, and I'll come to get you when I'm finished."

Poe looked up in confusion, "Shouldn't you be in an operation room?"

The doctor nodded and sighed. "We have found that with the number of people pouring onto the base many of them have sustained very serious injuries, which has resulted in an inefficient number of operating rooms at the moment." Again, Poe felt guilty for taking the doctor away from the other patients. "Now, the General has informed me that the two of you recently went to obtain another shipment of Bacta."

"Yes!" Poe hopped up from his position leaning against the wall, "Should I go get it?"

The doctor nodded.  _Please hurry_ , the medical droid beeped. Poe complied, racing out of the room and towards his ship. No wonder the doctors always complained about his number of visits to the medic; he didn't really watch where he was going.

"Hey!" Poe looked up just in time to see himself toppling over a dark-haired girl, the clipboard in her hands and its contents tumbling to the floor, along with Poe. Papers were strewn everywhere, but luckily there wasn't anyone in the hall to have witnessed his blunder other than the girl before him. He looked up, only to widen his eyes as Liana stood above him, pointedly not making eye contact as she moved down to pick up her scattered pieces of paper.

Poe mentally cursed himself before putting on one of his oh-so-charming smiles that Tav always made fun of him for. "I'm so sorry, Liana! Can I help you?" He scrambled to his feet, immediately bending down to try to help the girl.

She shook her head before sighing. "Fine. But be careful, please. The General needs to see this immediately."

"What is it?" Poe asked, his curious nature taking over.

Liana snorted. "I'm sorry, Commander, but I have not been given permission to divulge the information yet."

"What?" Poe asked in astonishment, "But I have clearance to almost everything!"

"Not this, apparently." Liana said bluntly, trying to hide her smirk; Poe could still see it. He thought it was kind of adorable, really, but now wasn't really the time to say that. And c'mon, what was so important that they couldn't tell him?

"Oh," Poe remembered what Tav had told him, "where did you say the General was?"

"I didn't."

"Please." He put on a cheesy smile.

Liana rolled her eyes, but let out a laugh. "She's in her office."

"Thanks!" Poe moved to head in the direction he had been heading towards the hangar before looking back as Liana called to him.

"That's two times you've tripped over me today, Commander. You might want to watch where you're going."

Poe felt himself blush, but grinned at her anyway before breaking into a jog down the hallway, "Call me Poe!"

Liana smirked, "Goodbye, Commander."

He couldn't help it. Poe let the cheesy smile wander onto his face as he turned the corner and ran out into the loading bay, heading straight for he and Tav's X-Wings. His little droid beeped a 'hello' as he neared, BB-8 rolling around in circles while CT-19 followed it.

"Hey little buddy," Poe affectionately called to his droid, heading to the back of his ship where the Bacta was loaded. CT-19 beeped indignantly. Poe grinned, "Hello to you too, Seetee." The droid replied with a pleased beep.

_What is Master-Poe doing?_ BB-8 chirped, stopping in its tracks to look up at the pilot. CT gave a series of loud, annoyed beeps as the astro accidentally ran into its friend who was no longer rolling around in circles.

Poe chuckled, ignoring the obscene cursing that no droid had ever been programmed to spout out. It had obviously learned it from its master. "I'm dropping the Bacta off with the medics." He grabbed whatever boxes he could carry before hurrying back to the medical wing, the two droids following him.

He couldn't help but notice some of the refugee children stare wide-eyed at the two droids that rolled down the hall after him. He shouldn't have been surprised, really; they  _had_ just been attacked, so the two droids were probably a welcome distraction for the kids. A few of them even ran up to the two astros, much to their parents' chagrin. However the little droids didn't seem to mind, and Poe had to laugh at the smug enjoyment BB and CT seemed to be getting out of the attention they were receiving.

Poe decided he'd leave them in the hallway as he delivered the Bacta. It would be good for the children, and he was sure BB wouldn't be happy if Poe pulled it away from the kids now.

The sound of loud cursing and a very annoyed tone of voice were what Poe followed to find his way back to the room he had been in before. He set the boxes down in the corner, slightly flinching as he stood back up to look at the sight before him: Tav was on the bed, sheets already stained with blood as the doctor stitched up her wound. The branch was lying on a nearby table, the end of it coated in the same red, sticky substance. Poe scrunched up his nose in disgust as he realized just how far it had been stuck in his friend's leg, and thanked the Maker that they hadn't somehow gotten stranded on the planet.

Speaking of which, Poe realized that he still needed to go talk to the General. Tav's discovery was of high importance and he'd be damned if General Organa didn't know about it ASAP. Tav seemed to catch a glimpse of him as he slipped out the door, because the resounding "Fuck you, Poe!" made him wince as he headed to the General's office.

Compared to that of the Med Bay, the rest of the halls in the base were relatively empty. Though, Poe remembered, he and Tav had been out for a good majority of the day. Most of the base was probably at dinner. His stomach growled at the thought, reminding him that he had missed lunch and was practically running on fumes. He sighed, deciding he would just have to wait before he could soothe his aching stomach.

Poe stood outside of the General's office somewhat awkwardly. She had never seemed to be angry at his abrupt intrusions before, but he still felt bad entering when the woman always seemed so swamped with work as it was. Still, Poe knocked on the door, waiting until he heard the muffled "Come in!" before entering.

General Organa sat behind a large desk made of dark wood, the desk filled with various papers and folders. A holopad sat to one side as she shuffled through a stack of documents. She looked up, her eyebrows raised. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Dameron?" The General smiled, seemingly relieved to take her mind off of the paperwork for a few minutes.

Poe gave the woman a nervous smile in return before going to rub the back of his neck. He hadn't really thought through what he was going to say to her, but years of giving mission reports had him blurting out the information they had found fairly quickly. "I think the First Order has a hidden base on Thyferra."

General Organa gave him a look of surprise before urging him to continue. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, uh," Poe bit his lip, "Tav found a kid on the planet. He was trembling – like, really shaking. And, uh, she said he was afraid she was going to hurt him, and when she asked why he said that, the boy told her that the First Order had hurt him before. Apparently a couple dozen are stationed on the other side of the planet."

The General sat back in her chair, apparently thinking things over. She shook her head. "That's ingenious of them; I should have seen it coming."

"General?" Poe gave her a confused look.

Again she shook her head. "They are planning to cut off the Bacta to the rest of us. If they can control the supply, then the Resistance and New Republic will be forced to fight a war without medicine." She stood up, "Nice work, Commander. Expect a meeting soon. I need to speak with the tacticians so we can devise a plan." She moved to leave, "We need to raid their base before the First Order realizes we know about it."

Poe nods. "When are we planning to do that?"

"As soon as possible."

Poe nods again, then – "Wait! Uh, you should probably know that Tav was injured on the mission." The General raised her eyebrows in surprise. "She fell, and uh, got a branch stuck in her leg."

General Organa gave him a look of astonishment before quickly replacing it with a blank expression. "Is it severe?"

Poe bit his lip. "I'm not sure. But she's with the medic now."

She nodded. "Well I assume that no matter what, she'd want to fly in the raid."

"But –"

"You know her better than I do, Dameron."

Poe sighed. He did. And he also knew that no injury was severe enough to warrant her to stay on base during something this important.

He nodded woefully. Tav wouldn't listen to reason. She never had. And he supposed her leg wouldn't hinder her piloting skills too terribly much, but still. It was the principle of the thing. Most soldiers were expected to get at least a few days rest before being sent out into the field. That's what any good commanding officer would make them do.

But Tav was Tav. And she knew him inside and out. Well enough that she knew what buttons to push to get her way and drive him insane. So insane, in fact, that Poe wondered how the kriffing hell they were still as close as they were sometimes. But perhaps that's why it worked. Whatever it was, Poe decided it was best to probably just let sleeping akk dogs lay.

"I should probably go let her know what's up, then."

General Organa shook her head. "Let her rest, Poe. You can tell her about everything once we've figured out a plan. Besides," she moved to leave her office, "you look like you could use some rest as well."

Poe watched silently as she left, not bothering to add a comment. He knew she was right, yet he couldn't bring himself to go lay down. He knew his bod was probably overworked, but that was the life of a pilot. Poe didn't often get much sleep on any normal given day, because he had to be ready to jump out of bed at the drop of a hat. The pilots were the first ones called away for missions and normally some of the last ones to get back. And Poe was in charge of making sure all of his pilots arrived safely. No, Poe didn't think he could go to sleep.

So instead, he figured he would go visit a friend.

Poe turned lots of windy hallways and corners, following the path to Finn's medical room. Occasionally a fellow soldier would stop him to give him a pat on the back or congratulate him on a successful mission on Starkiller, but mostly Poe tried to ignore them. He wasn't the real hero here. No, that role went to the ex-stormtrooper lying unconscious in the medical bay at the brink of death and the young scavenger who was off on a mission to bring back the last Jedi.

No, Poe wasn't the hero. He was just another broken man praying to whoever was listening that his friend would wake up from his coma.

When Poe entered Finn's room, the first smell that hit him was the strong scent of antiseptic and chemicals. Finn was lying face down on the bed, as to not aggravate the nasty wound on his back, and several tanks of Bacta were hooked up to him. He was unmoving. And if it weren't for the oxygen tube helping him breathe and the slight  _beep beep beep_  of his heart monitor, Poe would think that his friend was dead.

He scooted a chair over to the bed, plopping himself down on it and grabbing the other man's hand with his own. It wasn't unusual for Poe to visit Finn in the medical bay – he had already done it several times since the other man had been brought in – and yet he still found himself with that gnawing feeling of guilt in his gut. Finn was innocent. He had helped Poe escape the First Order, committing treason while doing so, and then willingly went back in order to save a girl he had only just met. Finn was amazing, and Poe couldn't help but feel an inkling of protection for the other man.

Poe should have been the one to protect Finn. Finn, who had known practically nothing of this world. He had been free for such a short time, and now he was confined to this bed. No one deserved that. He was so brave and now the world was making him pay for it. Poe couldn't help but wish it were him who was laying in the bed and not Finn.

He frowned, noticing Finn's jacket in shreds at the foot of his bed.  _Poe's_ jacket, which he had given to Finn. It was the man's only possession, and Poe felt guilty about it being torn up. He moved to grab it, pulling the jacket onto his lap.

A large gash split the back of the jacket nearly in two, but it wouldn't be completely unfixable. There were plenty of talented soldiers and specialized people on the base, so he was bound to find someone who could patch it up. That thought made Poe grin. Yes, he would get the jacket fixed so that when Finn woke up he would have it. The idea made Poe happy, whether the situation should have permitted it or not.


End file.
